Sanctuary for the Self
by Charsimma
Summary: VanderMeer's "Annihilation", AU (probably). Southern Reach decides that they'd lose fewer expeditions if they could de-hypnotize their people, while leaving them in Area X. This is a day in the life of their solution. Written as a visualization exercise for architecture studio.


_The main hazard of Area X, as determined by Southern Reach, is the malign influence it exerts on the psyche and mind of those sent into it. To counter this, Southern reach instituted a program of hypnosis for all expeditions - hypnosis which hides critical aspects of the self, even from those to whom that "self" belonged. Southern Reach soon learned that stripping the self from their expedition members explained why Area X's doppelgangers lacked critical memories and personality details, but caused psychotic breaks, hallucinations, suicide, and murder in expedition members._

 _To protect their expeditions from both Area X and the hypnosis, Southern Reach has designed a safe haven located in Area X. This shelter is elevated to distance the inhabitants from the ground from which Area X's influence emanates, and is shaped to deflect that which is outside, and cocoon that which is inside. In this sanctuary, expedition members can recover their hidden selves while remaining protected from the Area's influence, until they are ready to undergo hypnosis again and venture out into Area X, refreshed and ready for the rigors of exploration and discovery._

The tiny bell _ting_ -ed gently above the woman's head.

The woman stretched and opened her eyes, slowly tracing the line between the transparent and opaque sections of the wall as it curved into the ceiling, and following the loops that held the bell-wire until the wire disappeared into the interior wall. It still seemed like a primitive system, but at least it kept everyone on an orderly schedule.

The bell would ring in five minutes and again ten minutes after that, summoning all of Sanctuary's occupants to breakfast. Quick risers would get hot eggs and warm, fried rabbit. Laggards would be left with desiccated scraps and muesli.

She threw back her bed-covers and got up to dress. Clothing options were limited to a skirt or trousers and wrapped tops or tunics - some sleeveless, some with wide sleeves, all designs that could be made by people with minimal tailoring skill and no access to zippers. Real clothes stayed on the other side of the border.

She opened her door and walked up the few steps to the lounge area. Her podmates were ascending or descending from their own rooms and making their ways to the spiral staircase in the middle of the floor, some squinting in the relative dimness of the lounge. The space would not become much brighter until the sun rose higher above the tips of each of the sleeping chambers.

She gave a general "Good morning" which was returned in tones indicating varying degrees of wakefulness.

"Jim, wake up. You'll trip" she remarked to the sleepiest of the lot. Jim replied with a halfhearted grumble and what might have been a raised middle finger, if he'd been more awake.

She smiled and followed the others down the stairs and into the sloped corridor that connected their pod to the soaring central dome. She lined up in the commissary and after filling her tray, joined her podmates at one of the oval tables that spilled out onto the walkway in front of the cafeteria.

Jim already looked more awake, and El, Dan, and Rick were already discussing the day's work.

"East Three came back last night, and should be getting out of dehyp soon." Rick said.

El nodded. "The doc wanted people on hand – it sounds like they didn't have an easy trip yesterday - so I'm going over to collect Ann in a bit." El looked up as the woman sat down. "Trish, you're leaving tonight, aren't you."

The woman nodded. "Jim and I both. Northwest Two's experiments can't be left unattended, so we have to go out before they can come back."

"And their current plant guy has a black thumb." Jim yawned. "I hate rehyp."

Dan snorted. "Better than going out whole."

El stood to return her plate. "Too true. Were you here when Pod Five's cartographer got separated…"

"Ghost stories are for Thursday nights," Rick interrupted.

El stuck her tongue out at Rick. "Spoilsport. Alright, see you all later." She trotted off, soft shoes slapping quietly on the hard walkway.

Trish spoke "I'm on gardening for the morning, and weaving for the afternoon."

"Trade you," Rick said. "I've got yoga right after breakfast."

"I'll see you in weaving, but I'm supposed to be reading philosophy all morning," said Dan. "You'd think they'd want us to keep up on our specialties while we're in here. They won't let me anywhere near the chemistry bloc."

Rick laughed. "Don't you mean the dye-works? That's what they're doing this week. I've heard beets are involved."

"They stuck me tending rabbits for days last time I came back." Trish remarked. "It's just to get us out of the hypnosis mind-space faster."

"Summer camp bullshit." Jim pushed back from the table. "Rehyp or no, I can't wait to be back out in the field."

They separated to their assigned tasks. Trish collected her tools and gloves, and gathered with the other garden workers at the crossroad in the center of the dome. Slender towers of hydroponic vegetables stretched high above the turf to either side of the wide paths which sectioned the garden. One of the under-cooks stood near the center of the group, reciting the work assignments.

"All towers need feed solution added to the top reservoir, and the herbs need harvesting. We'll be drying these, so take whole stalks not just leaves."

The workers scattered to their assigned quadrants, climbing the spiral stairs inside each hydroponic tower to access the reservoirs, and trimming off plant sprigs to drop in the carry baskets on their shoulders. As she worked, Trish chatted amiably with a couple of acquaintances who were traveling the second level walkways that crossed the dome's interior.

The ambient light grew brighter as the morning progressed and the sun shed more of its rays on the translucent walls of the arched dome.

Halfway through the morning – well after the returning expedition team should have been fully in –there was some commotion at the entrance. Trish paused halfway up her spiral and leaned out to get a better look. She saw El, supporting a weeping Ann as they crossed the dome floor. The other members of East Three didn't look much better – making angry gestures as they were escorted apart, each accompanied by their podmates.

Trish frowned as she counted carefully. "…five, six, seven… One's missing." She leaned out a bit further, pushing fragrant plant sprigs aside, in time to see the medics close the solid doors and turn the mechanisms that shot locking-bolts into floor and ceiling. "That can't be good."

She worked methodically back down to the floor. El would take care of Ann, and if there was news, they'd all hear it at lunch. She finished spreading her gleanings on the drying racks just as the first bell for lunch rang.

She joined her podmates at their usual table. El was there but Ann was absent. Trish sat next to El and nudged her arm. "Well?"

El shook her head. "I left her up in the pod."

The chief medic stood and tapped his water glass for attention. "As you may have heard, the East Three team has returned, but Pod Five's chemist was injured as they were traveling to central. He is currently quarantined until we know how the injury will affect him."

"Bad luck for that Pod" Jim muttered.

Dan spoke up. "What got him?"

The head medic answered "From what the team said, it was one of the aggressive plants."

A low murmur punctuated by barely audible swearwords swept the room.

The medic continued. "As I said, we have him in quarantine and he's been as thoroughly decontaminated as we can manage. The team heading to Northwest Two will enter rehyp tonight and leave in the morning, as scheduled. That is all."

Jim poked at his salad greens. "They should include machetes in the field kits."

The others made low noises of agreement as they finished their meals.

El returned to the pod to take care of Ann. Trish, Jim, and Dan walked to the upstairs ateliers together. Jim turned at the entrance to the library. "See you in rehyp, Trish."

"Right."

The next opening was for the weaving atelier. Trish and Dan entered and each chose a loom. There was already a considerable amount of finished cloth on each, as everyone who worked in the atelier simply continued from where the last person left off. When the bolts were full, they would be taken to the chemistry labs or to the sewing studio

As he tossed the shuttle back and forth, Dan muttered " _Weaving._ Why?"

Trish snickered. "Why not? It's better than shuffleboard on the terrace."

"Says you."

"Southern Reach is run by survivalist hippies."

"… aren't those contradictory descriptions?"

"I hear there's open space in the taxidermy studio."

"I'd rather clean chicken cages."

Other people trickled in over the course of the afternoon, and soon the room was filled with the soft clacking of the looms, that only stopped when the first bell rang for dinner.

Trish stretched and hopped off her stool. She waved to Dan, and ambled down to the residence corridors and up into their pod. El was sprawled on the lounge couch.

"How's Ann?"

El sat up. "Sleeping. Apparently she was on point, and triggered the plant, but it didn't attack until the Pod Five guy walked past."

Trish grimaced. "Damn."

"Yep." El stood. "I'm going for dinner. You coming?"

Trish shook her head. "No. I always get sick if I don't rehyp on an empty stomach. I'm just up here to fix my hair."

"Right. Well, travel safe."

"Thanks."

Trish went into her chamber. She looked around for a moment at the spare quarters – bed, wardrobe, desk with an ergonomic stool pushed half way under the top – and sighed softly.

"Quit delaying." She pulled her hair into a simple braid and strode out of her room.

A few people still sat in the commissary as she walked past the room and out through the hydroponics to the main doors. Jim and the members of the team from other pods were all waiting at the closed wedge where the door edges met.

"Are the doors still locked?" She asked Jim.

"Yeah. They had to check on the quarantine guy."

It was only a few minutes more until they heard the locks thunk open and the doors swing out toward them. The medics beckoned them in.

"Take your usual berths please."

Trish carefully slid onto the inclined and lightly padded bench, resting her head between the raised panels at the top. She heard the hissing that indicated the start of rehypnosis procedure. Trish slept.

…..

The Horticulturist woke up.

She sat up and scanned her surroundings. The other members of the team were also sitting up. As a group, they changed out of their clothes and donned the sleek jumpsuits next to their berths. Then they moved past quarantine and down the enclosed stairs that connected each of the decontamination rooms to the next. For safety in travel, each member of the team was partnered with another. The Horticulturist was partnered with the Forester and they naturally fell into step with each other.

Quarantine held a man who appeared to be suffering from a wound.

The Forester looked over at the man and asked, "New specimen?"

The Horticulturist regarded the man, considering. "Not yet. I see no indication of parasite plant growth."

The Forester made a disinterested noise of agreement as the group continued through the decontamination rooms, skirting the showers and waiting in small groups for the inner airlocks to cycle them through. They reached the second outermost of the decontamination chambers.

The team members took travel clothes out the lockers arranged around the room, each labeled with their pod numbers and job titles, and put them on – reinforced jackets and heavy pants, with thick leather boots – and filter-respirators.

The Forester frowned vaguely as they put on their prepared travel packs and followed the Scout and the Hunter into the last airlock between them and Area X.

"Problem?" the Horticulturist asked.

"No," the Forester replied. "But there should be a machete with these."


End file.
